


Strictly Sex

by chairmanfreakingmeow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Auror Harry Potter, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Prostitution, Sad Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2018-11-06 15:59:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11039487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chairmanfreakingmeow/pseuds/chairmanfreakingmeow
Summary: Draco's spent the last few years as a high end hooker drifting through the motions, then comes Harry.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fanfiction and it was pretty rushed so please don't skewer me, my love for Drarry is too strong ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Also heavy thanks to my professional advice giver and semi editor: Beb <3

 

The thing about being a high end hooker (other than the loads of cash and high end hotels) was the anonymity of it all. Draco hadn’t appeared in the newspaper since the trial, yet he had spent so much time with the upper class, he knew all of the inner circle gossip- Greyback’s pending trial, the auror drama, Weasley's new baby, and the ministry’s new decisions. Draco smoked his cigarette and focused on a dark spot on the ceiling wondering what could have caused it, while Jan (what a ridiculous name) put his suit back on him. Sex with him wasn’t as much of a chore as it was with others, but it was as drab as ever. “Amazing as always Draco, I’ll see you next month” Jan smiled at him, it was all teeth, and his tie was crooked but he looked satisfied enough. “You know it babe,” Draco drawled enjoying the feeling of silk sheets (this hotel never failed to exceed expectations). With the click of the door, Draco got up and walked towards to balcony, cigarette still warm between his fingertips. 

 

Since the trials, he, Pansy, Blaise, and previously Theo, had struggled with their financial situation and for a while they scrounged on the streets, and pickpocketing. After 3 months of it, they resorted to prostitution. Blaise, being the courageous one, was the first to go to it, and soon the four of them were slowly scrounging enough money to buy a flat for themselves. Eventually their organisation progressed to a high end “comfort” business, and Draco was servicing ministry officials and head aurors (talk about morals). Of course last week Theo had announced that he was quitting and moving in with Dean, one of his clients that he had apparently caught feelings for (gross), leaving Blaise, Pansy and Draco to run the business by themselves. Of course his departure hadn’t affected them much, but Draco couldn’t help but feel a growing gap between Theo and the rest of them. Pansy claimed behind closed doors that Theo’s relationship couldn’t possibly last, and before he knew it, he would be back with them. 

 

Draco watched the blinking city lights, he only had his loose trousers slinging low on his hips (Pansy said he was really too skinny), and took a long drag from his cigarette. He was in the capital, a high scale ministry meeting ended up with him having a lot of clients in the capital so Pansy had rented out a nice room for him in a hotel a few miles away from the one he was in currently. His next client was in a few days so he had a few days to waste away with cigarettes, scotch, and brooding (something he was excellent at). 

 

 

What’s the likelihood of running into the saviour of the world while walking on the streets of muggle London? 

 

After one day of smoking, scotch, and his own insecurities, Draco found himself at a small pub in the London nursing a gin and tonic wondering when all of his friends became so healthily adjusted to their lives. Blaise and Pansy were buying stocks and attempting to increase profit for the company, Theo was still happily honeymooning with his new fiance. Draco was left lonely and unhappy, wondering when life had decided screw him over, probably when he decided to side with psychopath he mentally added. So he decided maybe brooding and sitting in his flat all day wasn’t helping, maybe taking a walk outside would. 

 

“Malfoy?” Potter asked, the surprise was clear on his face. 

 

“Well hello Potter,” Draco drawled, he fiddled with his cigarette

 

“What are you doing here?” Potter asked

 

“I live in the area” Draco forced out. After six years he still felt nervous and embarrassed around Potter, it didn’t help that he looked so  _ good _ . He was wearing dark jeans and a red jumper, it just made it more infuriating that Potter managed to pull it off.

 

“Oh, yeah me too I guess” Potter said.

 

“Well I’ll catch you around” Draco blurted, he was flushing for some reason and he was stuck between wanting to talk more with Potter and wanting to run away forever, apparently his mouth had made the decision for him.

 

“Yeah, see you later” Potter said.

_ Damnit, Potter’s hair still looked untouchable. _

 

 

After a particularly unenjoyable “appointment” (as Draco liked to call it), where Auror Jenkins went to hard and was far too sweaty, Draco was left in yet another fancy hotel, smoking a cigarette. 

 

He wondered what Potter was doing, probably saving some helpless kittens or preventing tsunamis. 

 

His phone (muggle inventions were just so lovely), rang and when he picked up the familiar sound a Pansy’s cutting voice made it’s way through the speaker,

 

“Draco- you have a new appointment tomorrow” he could hear the distant sound of Pansy clicking away on her computer definitely balancing out the company’s finances. 

 

“And who can afford this hot bod” Draco drawled

 

“Well the lucky bloke who can afford your pasty white ass is the best friend of the lucky bloke who will get you” 

 

“That’s a loop, what’s the lucky bloke’s name” 

 

“Well he refused to give names but he gave me the money already and an address” Pansy’s typing continued.

 

“Well love, send them on over,” Draco took another drag of his cigarette. 

 

“Just sent it,” the clicking stopped. 

 

 

At 9:00 Draco found himself wearing his classic suit combo (the one that made his arse look amazing), and standing outside a nice looking flat checking his watch. He sincerely hoped this bloke would be quick, because he didn’t feel like dragging himself home at 3 in the morning. One of the downsides of having appointments in the client’s actual flat was the need to never overstay his welcome (that meant sneaking out right after). He briskly knocked on the door. 

At approximately 9:01 Draco found himself staring open-mouthed at Harry Potter, who himself was looking about just as shocked (if maybe more) than Draco was. 

 

“Potter” Draco stated, he was trying to confirm that the lucky bloke was none other than the saviour golden boy.

 

“Malfoy, ohmygod Ron told me just a few minutes ago- I didn’t know who to call I really just um the thing is” Potter rambled on.

 

Embarrassment and shame flared inside Draco, and suddenly so did anger. Potter didn’t get to make him feel shame for this- this was who he was, the world didn’t get to have Draco feel disgusting in front of Potter. Draco put on his perfected emotionless mask. 

 

“Let’s get this done” 

 

Pushing past Potter, Draco stepped inside of the flat (which was surprisingly plain for the chosen one), and took off his blazer casually tossing it onto a couch. 

 

“You should know this from my contract but I don’t do any kissing on the mouth and ropes are only allowed if I can free myself when I want to,” (he had learned that with experience). 

“Malfoy really you don’t have to, Ron was being an arse, you can keep the money” Potter gestured with his hands weakly his face red and his eyes darting away from Draco’s. 

 

Another spike of irritation flared inside of Draco, he wasn’t begging for Potter’s charity, he had survived on the streets long enough without the golden boy taking pity on him. He slipped out of his shirt and peeled off his trousers, presenting himself to Potter. 

 

“Potter. Shut the fuck up and shag me now or I’m gonna tell my pimp we lost a client.” Drarry bit out (yeah, maybe calling Pansy his pimp was a creative use of hyperbole, but Potter would never know that). 

 

In an instant Potter was on him hands and mouth- touching every inch of Draco’s pale skin.

 

“Fuck Malfoy, I have no control with you” Potter breathed between the hickeys he was giving Draco. 

 

Draco couldn't even give a reply between the moans he was giving Potter. Instead he started tugging at Potter’s shirt which was suddenly covering up too much skin and simultaneously trying to drag his jeans off too. 

 

Potter responded by dragging his ratty shirt over his head and slipping out of his jeans.

 

And  _ holy shit _ , the years had been kind to Potter, his chest was muscled and though he was still lean, Potter had very defined abs lining his stomach, and the golden boy’s cock was definitely showing interest in Draco’s naked body. 

At the sight of Potter’s rather large appendage, Draco sank to his knees and took the tip into his mouth. And fuck- giving head had never felt so good before, he swirled his tongue around the slit and began to bob his head down completely. “Holy fuck-nnnnhnnn- Draco” Potter moaned, his fingers curling in Draco’s blonde hair, which was frighteningly soft. Draco continued, savoring the taste and cursing the world for making this so  _ good _ , because he would never be able to do this to another client without thinking of Potter again. 

 

“Draco-mm stop I’m going to” Potter moaned, trying to pull Draco off of him. 

 

Draco popped off of Potter’s cock, and positioned himself over the saviour. “Wait are you-” Potter began, “I’m prepared” Draco stated, he did always attempt to prepare himself in case of rough clients that didn’t enjoy foreplay. 

 

“Holy shit Draco, your arse” Potter stated, pupils dilated, “is amazing” Draco finished.

 

Enjoying the burn, Draco sank himself onto Potter’s cock, gritting his teeth and flushing the whole time. Potter writhed beneath him rambling nonsense.

 

“Move Potter” Draco gritted out, his legs trembled. 

 

Potter immediately complied and found a way to hit Draco’s prostate perfectly with each thrust leaving Draco a breathless heap of moans and pleasure. He proceeded to kiss every inch of Draco’s chest, leaving a trail of hickeys. Potter’s hand found its way to Draco’s cock and the sensations from both his arse and cock, brought Draco closer to his climax. 

 

“Draco mm, I’m gonna come” Potter bit out in between kisses. “Come sugar” Draco stated twisting his fingers in Potter’s dark hair. With a breathy moan, Draco came over Potter’s fist, and Potter apparently also had came inside of Draco. 

 

Draco lay breathless on Potter’s chest, fingers still curled in Potter’s hair, the two of them were still lying on Potter’s carpeted floor (Draco sincerely hoped this floor was clean) . Part of him was screaming to get out and not overstay his welcome but another part of him wanted to curl up in Potter’s arms forever.

 

Said saviour of the world wrapped his arms around Draco holding him flush against his body. Draco’s eyes drooped and he fell asleep lulled by the warmth of Potter’s arms.

 

 

Light filtered through the curtains and the first thing Draco felt was an intense a very weird feeling of  _ relaxation _ . He hadn’t felt this comfortable in years- so he definitely wasn’t in his own room. That was when he was greeted by Potter’s distinct head of shaggy black hair; currently Draco was curled up against Potter’s very bare chest and Draco himself was also very bare (he was buttnaked). 

 

Slowly the realization that Draco had fallen asleep at a client’s house, Potter’s house to make it worse, hit Draco and he felt the urgent need to run. So he did what any Malfoy would do- he slipped into his clothes and slipped out of the apartment, not before examining Potter and taking mental pictures of how attractive the golden boy looked while sleeping. 

 

So 11:00 that morning Draco found himself yet again brooding and smoking a cigarette while staring out the window and contemplating the disastrous decisions he had made in life. That was when the sound of a sharp knocking at the door filled his ears. 

 

“Draco, what the fuck, you didn’t pick up when Blaise called you, and my texts went unanswered, and you know the last time you didn’t pick up, I was so fucking worried about you, you fucking piece of horse shit,” Pansy shouted when Draco opened the door.

 

She looked worried, irritated, and terrifying.

 

“Sorry Pans, the appointment tired me out”, Draco winced.

 

“Draco are you okay, did he hurt you?” Pansy tilted Draco’s jaw to inspect for injuries.

 

Draco gently removed her probing fingers, “No Pans, I’m fine it was just surprise is all”. 

 

“What do you mean?” Pansy frowned. 

 

“It was Harry Potter” Draco stated

 

“Wow, that’s just, wow”

 

“Yeah” Draco said, he ran a hand through his hair.

 

“Well he paid well” Pansy suggested sheepishly.

 

“I don’t know Pansy, I just don’t know, it was a mistake and I know it- but it just freaks me out so much. He looks so good and I don’t wanna get close to him, but last night, I don’t know”  Draco mumbled. 

 

“Draco, I know you hate when I lecture you, but I don’t want you hung up over a schoolboy obsession, we have a job to do,” Pansy said softly; her eyes were to truthful and they cut through Draco like a sharpened knife. 

 

“Yeah it’s strictly sex anyway” Draco said flatly, chest tightening with pain. 

 

“Yeah sure Draco,” Pansy said, but her tone was too patronizing and unbelieving for Draco.


	2. Chapter 2

The thing is, Draco’s never really had to wonder about his own future, and his goals, basically all  the bullshit Lucius used to hammer into his brain. In the beginning it mattered, but after choosing the lifestyle he lived, everything just seemed meaningless. Life passed on, just like blokes, fucks were temporary, and everything would always settle. 

 

Leave it to the fucking savior of the wizarding world to muck it all up.

 

Now Draco was left wondering if anything had truly been worth it, where was he going? It seemed life always did this to him, Harry Potter knew his pathway and it just made Draco feel even more lost. While everyone marched on to their destiny, it felt like Draco was sitting in the remnants of past deeds, he was simply waiting to die. Of course for Draco, the immediate solution to this problem included smoking more than he ever had, and non-stop drinking. 

 

He poured himself a fourth cup of brandy, unfortunately his body had decided to build up a tolerance to the liquid and recently it was taking more and more for Draco to get a buzz. 

 

Because after all, if there was one things Malfoys knew best, it was self destruction.

  
  


Apparently Draco’s business had really boomed, because standing in front of his office (yes , as ridiculous as it was, their prostitution business had an official office) was none other than Harry Potter. Perhaps what irritated Draco more than Potter just showing up out of nowhere, was the fact that when he saw the familiar green eyes, tan skin, and lovable mess of hair, he was inexplicably  _ happy _ ; a feeling Draco was not used to feeling. Irritated, he took a sip from his brandy (let’s be honest, it had some vodka mixed in too).

 

“What brings the famous golden boy here?” Draco drawled, fingers still curled around his glass.

 

“Well, I guess-” Potter blushed and twisted his fingers together, “I just wanted to check in-”

 

“Potter- let’s stop right there. You don’t want to ‘check in’ with me, you want to ease your guilt and tell me it was all a mistake, blah blah, I’m not really interested currently.” Draco said.

 

“Malfoy- maybe I just wanted to see what’s going on with you? Last time I saw you, you were preparing to take over the Malfoy riches” Harry said.

 

“Well last time you saw, me I hadn’t realized that life is harsh and for former death eaters family money is not passed down, luckily that little gift of knowledge hit me later when I was fucking a bloke’s name I didn’t know for money”. Draco stated blandly, he inwardly cursed himself for showing Potter his inner weaknesses, alcohol always made him have a looser tongue, he still took a sip of brandy regardless. 

 

“I’m sorry for everything that happened, but you and I both know who you served, Malfoy, as for your current -” he coughed “position, I’m speechless”. Harry said.

 

“Great we’ve established it’s still my fault, and you’re still a brainless hero, and my career choice is stellar.” Draco glared, “Anything else on the agenda today?”

 

“God Malfoy, why do you have to twist everything, I just wanted to talk to you today” Harry sighed and rubbed his temples.

 

Draco sighed, “The thing is with you Potter, is that this perfectly described how deluded you are. You came here to talk to me? You could haved talked to me years before, if you wanted to have a good old talk with your dear Hogwarts rival you could have reached out numerous times before We both know what you want today,” 

 

Harry stared, “and what is that I want today?”

 

“Don't screw around Potter,” Draco chuckled, “scratch that, that’s exactly what you want today.” 

 

They stared at each other for five minutes before they clashed with each other, all teeth and tongue. 

In the moment it was splendid, Draco knew afterwards it would be hell.

 

But as always, Malfoys knew self destruction well.

  
  


Draco lay on his back, still shirtless, on the floor of his office, next to a panting Harry. He scanned the room for the nearest cigarette, he’d probably need one for what was next. 

 

Potter got up first, scrambling to put his clothes on, cheeks still flushed, and glasses crooked. Draco took the opportunity to grab the pack on his desk and light up the smoking stick of imminent doom. 

 

“This can’t happen ever again,” Potter said, still buckling his belt. 

 

And there it was- what Draco was used to. The end to the good. By now he just expected his life to go in a downward spiral, so this was all expected. 

 

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like bitch when he had said it though.

 

Draco stared at the ceiling and took a long drag, he was willing tears back. He felt like such a fucking idiot, because even after years of numbing everything out and acting the part of the hardened hooker who didn’t give a fuck (no pun intended) about what people thought, he still did care. No matter who many times he threw away his body, and his own health, he still was chasing that dream of a happy life and someone else who might find him eventually, and who might inexplicably want him despite his fucked up life and attitude. That dream was just buried under layers of denial and self harm. 

 

Give it to Potter to simultaneously pull the dream out and stomp it into a million pieces with only two fucks. 

 

Potter opened the door on his way out, “I’m sorry Draco.” The door clicked behind him.

 

And there it was- once again Draco was left used, naked, and alone, with only the light of his burning cigarette to comfort him. 

  
  
  


One of the things Draco learned in his time as a “handsome companion” was that “this can’t ever happen again”,  _ always _ happens again. It seems like even the boy who lived wasn’t an exception to this rule. Potter lay sweaty on his back staring at the ceiling, and Draco once again took a long drag; waiting for the feeling of disgust, shame, and loneliness to sink into his skin. 

Potter opened his mouth, “I’m so-”- Draco cut him off, “yeah, Potter, you’re sorry, this will never happen again, I’ve heard it all before.” Clad in only a button down shirt that wasn’t even closed, Draco tapped his cigarette and poured a glass of scotch for himself, savoring the open mouthed look Potter had. 

 

Draco took a sip from his glass and turned away from Potter looking out the window. 

 

He waited for the click of the door closing before he let the intense feeling of self loathing wash over him. 

  
  


Draco spends one day walking around the cold streets of London letting the wind whip his cheeks until they’re red.

 

He spends the day after that holding in tears and downing various bottles of alcohol.

 

It’s the third day that he decides he needs to stop all this. Damnit, he fucking lived in the same house as the dark lord, and he’s breaking down because of some speccy eyed git who probably has some she-weasley he’s preparing to marry anyway.

 

It’s the fourth day that he vows to truly end his escapades with Potter and he calls Pansy to meet him in the park outside his ratty apartment. 

 

They’re sitting next to each other scarves wrapped tight around their necks, noses red, when Draco speaks. 

 

“I think I need to let go of this.” he says, staring at a tree up ahead, he hopes that she understands he’s talking about Potter but at the same time it’s Pansy, and she definitely knows it is.

 

“I think you’re ready to let go of this dear,” Pansy says, she’s quite possibly staring at the same tree ahead. 

 

Draco decides that’s the perfect time to let all of the disgusting angsty feelings he’s been holding in for the past few weeks to flow out and cry. The tears sting his cheeks with their scalding warmth.

 

Pansy gathers him up into her arms, for a change she isn’t wearing a tight dress, she’s wearing a soft winter coat, jeans, and boots, and it feels like home when he presses his wet face into her arms. 

 

They stay like that for 2 hours. 


	3. Chapter 3

It sucks, but gradually Draco comes to terms with the idea of letting Harry go. He thinks it’s possibly the healthiest mindset he’s had since the war- and he starts this lifestyle by taking a break from hooking. It’s not that his job disgusts him, in fact Draco is ashamed of who or what he is, rather he needs a break, the sex isn’t as fun is it had been in the past, and it’s time he relaxes and takes some time for himself.   
He firecalls his mother. Draco’s never had a conversation with her about what he does for a living, but Narcissa is smart enough to know, considering the irregular large sums of money he sends her way. The last time they talked in person was when Lucius had died in Azkaban, and generally talking to her hurts more than it helps, so Draco avoids contact with her. It’s not that she’s heartless, in fact it’s probably because she’s so loving that it hurts to talk to her, she loved him, but not enough to escape Voldemort, and not enough to stop the self-destructive spiral his life has been since the war.   
When she answers, she sounds just as elegant as she was when he was a child and he admired her long blonde hair, and graceful movements, but there’s a layer of weariness over the eloquence.   
“Draco, dear how are you?” Because, never, ever did they talk about what had changed- the gaps in communication, the irregular spurts of money, anything that might give a hint that life wasn’t the way it had always been.   
“Mother, I’ve been good-” he pauses, is there a way to phrase that he’s stopped hooking because he caught feelings for his old schoolboy rival?   
“I’ve been taking a break from work.” He decides on, because there’s no point in breaking the illusion for her today.   
“Oh love, well we all need a rest sometimes, make sure you get that.” She doesn’t give away any signs that she’s scared he will stop sending her money, after all, that would be a form of begging, and no Malfoy begs.   
The talk for the next few minutes, discussing the weather, and avoiding any dangerous topics, but Draco ends the call feeling less empty than he did when he started it. Yes, his mother is living in an illusion, but in the end, shouldn't he be grateful that it isn’t him? The path to denial, and the past is so much easier to follow, than the path forward. And for Draco especially, the path forward was covered in thorn bushes, and shadows that promised further threats, but he took it. He fell, tripped, and got his heartbroken along the way, but never once did he take a step back. Yes the war fucked him up irreversibly, but most of all- it pushed him. And for that Draco feels better. 

For the next few weeks, Draco spends more time with Theo and Pansy. Alarmingly, when they suggest therapy to him, instead of scoffing indignantly and drinking away his sorrows, Draco goes. The therapist’s name is Joanna, and her soothing voice tells him, that he’s been purposefully self-destructing to punish himself for the war. He’s not sure if he believes her when she tells him it’s not his fault and he needs to stop blaming himself, but he’s willing to try to get better. He gives up alcohol and cigarettes too, considering they just another form of self-flagellation, he takes it as a sign that he’s getting better.   
Pansy tells him one day that he doesn’t actually need to hook, after all their business is thriving and they need someone to just manage the books, Draco is a co-founder so there’s no reason he has to sell himself anymore. It’s a relief. He doesn’t think he can do it anymore, he’s tired of purposefully making his path towards the future sharper and rougher than it has to be, he wants recovery and healing to be as smooth as possible. With Pansy and Blaise help it is. 

Of course, it’s when Draco’s life is looking up, that’s when Potter decides to step back in. It’s 7 PM, and Draco’s watching some medical sitcom on his couch while cradling a warm cuppa in his cozy sofa, when there’s a knock at the door. Assuming it’s Blaise or Pansy coming to check up on him, he pads over to the door in his sushi fuzzy socks, adidas leggings, and faded blue jumper.   
He’s greeted with the sight of Potter’s face, looking rather flushed.   
“Potter.” He’s not sure what to say, but somewhere in his heart he feels hopeful, and he absolutely despises himself for it.   
“Draco, could I come in?” Fuck him for still wearing those thick glasses, yet still looking desirable.   
It takes all of his strength to utter out a short “no”.   
“I’ll pay.” Harry states, and he looks pained to say it. A sluggish anger builds inside Draco at this point, because after years of convincing himself that he’s good enough to fuck but not good enough to keep, he’s had it. He has awesome friends, and fuck everyone, because in the end Draco is still human enough to realize when he’s done with being used. Because that’s the problem-- Draco’s never had a problem with using people in the past, after all in the end he was always using them too, but with Harry it’s different, its Draco being used and feeling only self-loathing and a hollow heart afterwards.   
“I think I’ve punished myself enough.” And with that bitten out sentence, Draco slams the door in the attractive bastard’s face.   
And yes, maybe he does turn around, lean on the door, sink to the ground and lay his head in his hands, but he absolutely does not cry (at least not that much). 

Before he knows it-- another two weeks passes, and Pansy, being who she is, offers a long vacation for the three of them -- Draco, Blaise, and her. She says it’s to celebrate the turn in Draco’s life, but really he thinks she’s just bored of the UK and wants to travel for a while. He doesn’t mind though, some time away from the the golden boy could lessen his pitiful sulking. Pansy’s laid out a plan for a trip to Thailand, followed by a stop in Egypt, and ending with a luxury resort in Jordan.   
The 2 month long trip ends in a blur, all he can remember is sun, beaches, Pansy’s numerous nip-slips (he told her stop wearing that bikini goddamnit), and good food. Yes all the happiness is dulled by the ache of Potter, but by surrounding himself with Blaise and Pansy smiling faces he remembers that despite his utterly shit life, he has good friends. 

When they return to the UK, Draco sells his flat and moves in with Pansy, just temporarily until he can find a new one, but they both know it’s so that he doesn’t feel so alone. Blaise visits constantly, and Theo even writes him once or twice, telling him about his husband and his overwhelming new life.   
A few days after he gets back, and he’s lying on their couch reading a book, the doorbell rings and Pansy gets it, Draco doesn’t even bother looking up, knowing it’s most likely something she ordered -- he knows the business is thriving considering the amount of junk the woman buys online. Instead, he hears Pansy’s furious low whispering and shuffling in the doorway-- still he’s not curious enough to check, but the sinking feeling in his stomach gives away the fact that at this point he probably knows who it is.   
Pansy approaches him slowly, her face is red from furious whispering and her hands are clenched at her sides, “Assface is here, he wants to talk to you.” He looks in her eyes for an out, but in the end he simply gets up and approaches the door. The walk feels like eternity and he suddenly feels self-conscious in his faded gray shirt and baggy jeans.   
For once, it’s Harry who looks worse for wear, his eyes have dark bags and his hair is more messy than it usually is. “Draco, hey you look” he pauses as if searching for an appropriate word, “good.”   
“Did you come here to give me average compliments, Potter?”   
“No I actually came to, well I don’t want to sound too imposing, but-”  
“Please get on with it already,” Draco taps his foot.  
“Would you like to go out some time?”  
Well, he certainly wasn’t expecting that.   
“Go out like you take me to a seedy motel and shag me in quiet shame?”  
Harry coughs, “No, actually I meant go out like coffee…?”  
Draco’s about to retort with something snarky and offensive when Potter cuts him off, “Listen, I was a dick before, and so stupid, but I like you, more than just sex with you, I mean I like that too, but overall if you would be open to it I would like to take you out some time, and get to know you better,”  
“Shit proposal Potter, come back when you have something better.” And because Draco wants to prove that he’s no longer desperate for some sort of affection from Potter he closes the door. He’s been hurt once, and though the there’s a dull ache of not being with him, it’s better than letting Potter break his heart again. 

Potter though -- being the moron he is, apparently can’t take no for an answer, because he shows up at Draco’s apartment every day after, giving him chocolates, flowers, essentially all the essentials of a cheesy romcom.   
After a week Draco, maybe a little bit more charmed than he would like to admit, gives in and agrees to one date.   
Then after their first date with messy spaghetti noodles, a spilled cup of wine, and way too many laughs after the initial hump of getting to know each other, maybe Draco agrees to a second.   
Then a third, a fourth, and goddamnit how does Potter always get his way, Draco really needs to learn his tricks.   
But after three months when Potter proposes in his clumsy, public, one-knee, red-faced stutter, Draco realizes yes, maybe he got his way in the end too. 

Epilogue 3 years later  
Watching Pansy make fun of Potter, while Blaise talks with Draco about organizing a new contract for their business, which after having gone official has officially been named “Secret” (yes it was Pansy’s idea, and yes Draco hates it), Draco sometimes wonders how it all came to be.   
Well it came quite simply actually, Pansy and Draco hadn’t been at all surprised that Draco and Harry had finally gotten their heads out of their asses enough to start dating, but they still gave Harry the typical if you hurt him I’ll kill you speech. For Draco, he was forced to attend a painfully awkward Weasley dinner where he realized he had more in common with Hermione than he thought, but he was still only could share barbs and insults with Ron. Harry had been happy they made it through one dinner without killing each other.   
Then, after a year of dating, their organisation had become official, “Secret”, a high-end escort service, thrived with the anonymity of it, and the money kept on growing. The three of them still ran the business, but had mostly retired themselves at this point -- Harry supportive of anything Draco did, but Draco knew he was overjoyous when he found out Draco at quit sleeping with clients. Pansy and Blaise had finally come to terms with the fact that despite hating the best friend partner stereotype, they fit it perfectly, and became one of the most disgusting couples Draco’s ever had to witness (although they all say he and Harry are far worse). They were expecting their first child soon, but were holding onto the fact that marriage was an outdated tradition, and two of them were too good to conform to society’s rules.   
Draco and Harry, apparently unliked them, weren’t too good to conform to society’s rules, considering they married after only three months of dating.   
Predictably Draco’s mother responded in a shocked and worried fashion at the prospect of marrying someone he barely knew, but inside Draco found this hilarious considering, he and Harry had been shagging for a pretty long time at the point when they finally tied the knot.   
And that all brings him to know, where Draco sits on the grass half listening to Blaise and loving the Harry’s tomato blush at Pansy’s implicative words.   
And he thinks, if there was one thing Malfoys knew best, it was self-destruction, so it’s probably good that he’s a Potter.


End file.
